PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #40

This week’s newsletter:

◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – China’s Online Feminism Is Everywhere
◼︎ 2. What’s New – A Closer Look at Featured Stories
◼︎ 3. What Else to Know – South Korea and Syria Trending on Weibo
◼︎ 3. What’s Noteworthy – Dutch Woman Searches for Chinese Roots in Anhui
◼︎ 4. What’s Memorable – About the Notre Dame Fire and the Old Summer Palace
◼︎ 5. Weibo Word of the Week – 飘然 (Piāorán)

Dear Reader,

Hello again! After a brief hiatus, I’m happy to reconnect with you all. My time away was spent traveling across China to deliver addresses at the Embassy and Consulate of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. Preparations and travel left less time for the site than anticipated, but it was well worth it. It was an honor to serve as the Cleveringa speaker in both Beijing and Shanghai and to meet so many of you who have been reading and supporting What’s on Weibo.

Cleveringa (1894–1980) was a distinguished Dutch professor and dean of law at Leiden University. In 1940, he gave a historic speech protesting the dismissal of two Jewish colleagues under Nazi policies. His bold act is commemorated annually through Cleveringa Lectures, not only at Leiden University but also at Dutch embassies worldwide. This year, the Cleveringa Lecture series extended to Beijing, where I had the opportunity to contribute to this meaningful tradition.

The topic of my lecture was “Fifteen Years of Weibo: New Voices Shaping Social Power in China,” in which I discussed how Weibo has become much more than just another social media platform. It has turned into a space where state media channels, brands and businesses, everyday citizens, meme creators, and unlikely heroes ignite national conversations and even drive social change. In the lecture, I explored the various stories that went viral and left a lasting impact over the years, further diving into the unique power of Chinese social media to shape public discourse and connect a diverse nation in unprecedented ways.

Meeting many of you—embassy staff, journalists, and students—at these events was a highlight. It’s heartwarming to know What’s on Weibo is a valuable resource to many of you for staying tuned into digital China’s trends.

 
Clashes and Controversies over Feminism
 

A recurring topic during discussions was Chinese feminism, especially as the Orange the World campaign began on November 25, marking 16 days of global action against gender-based violence. In honor of this, the Embassy of the Netherlands glowed orange to support #OrangeTheWorld.

One of the major stories I explored in my lecture is also strongly connected to feminism: the Xuzhou chained mother in 2022. This case was a pivotal moment for China’s online feminist movement, spotlighting issues such as human trafficking and the silent complicity of local village or county authorities that allowed such tragedies to unfold. I went on to discuss the evolving nature of online feminism in China.

This topic of online feminism has resurfaced on Weibo multiple times in recent weeks—though not always in a positive light.

In November, Chinese e-commerce giant JD.com canceled its “Singles Day” collaboration with comedian Yang Li following male backlash and boycott threats over her critiques of male confidence. While some celebrated the decision, many women vowed to boycott JD in protest, calling out misogyny and double standards. This incident reflected how anti-feminist sentiments in China not only influence public discourse but also shape business and marketing dynamics.

Over the past two weeks, the Chinese hit film Her Story, directed by young female filmmaker Shao Yihui (邵艺辉) and released on November 22, also triggered online discussions. Some critics labeled it a “boxer film” (拳师电影). As explained in Wendy Huang’s article, in China, the term “boxer” (拳师) is sometimes used to critique certain feminists. The second character in the word for feminists (“权” quán) is pronounced the same as the first character in “boxer” (“拳” quán). This term has therefore become used to mock feminists who are seen as overly aggressive.

These examples—and there are many more recent ones—highlight the negative connotations of ‘feminism’ in China. Not too long ago, the Communist Youth League of China even called “extreme feminism” a “malignant tumor on the Internet.”

Over the past ten years, there have been many discussions on the state of feminism in China today. During this time, feminism has seemingly become an increasingly uncomfortable term.¹

“Feminism was never a taboo topic in China,” women’s rights activist Meili Xiao wrote in the New York Times in 2015. She explained: “Before, our messages were consistent with those of the government, which calls itself an advocate of women’s rights.” That sentiment started to change, especially over the past decade, as many women perhaps no longer want what the government wants for them.

In 2018, while the Me Too Movement dominated Western media discourse, various renowned feminist Weibo accounts, including Feminist Voices (女权之声), were pulled offline. In the years that followed, feminist groups were also censored on other platforms, from WeChat to Douban.

In recent years, feminism on the Chinese internet has grown increasingly controversial—not just because of censorship, which ties more to politics and the repression of grassroots activism—but also due to social disagreements over what Chinese feminism is or should be.

It is not uncommon for Chinese feminists of various generations and backgrounds to clash (read about one famous clash here). Some popular online groups of vocal women are sometimes degradingly called “countryside feminists” (中华田园女权), a term used to describe women who label themselves as feminists but cherry-pick the rights they think they should have. Some mainland liberals argue that feminism in China should not focus solely on gender differences but raise voices for broader civil rights activism.

Perhaps most important to realize is that Chinese feminism is not Western feminism. Western feminism, influenced by the sexual revolution and movements like gay liberation, brought forth academic studies on gender and sexuality that were heavily dominated by Western cultures, histories, and voices. These ideas often emphasized resistance against male dominance alongside liberalism and capitalism.²

While there is an ongoing effort in China to adapt and reinterpret Western feminist discourse to align with local cultural realities, many believe that the liberation of women cannot be separated from broader societal emancipation and should transcend the Western binary division of the sexes.

However, some Chinese feminists continue to incorporate Western feminist frameworks to advance feminism in the Chinese context, which often leads to resistance and even online hate from those who view these efforts as ‘disruptive’ or as ‘promoting opposition between the sexes.’

 
Scattered Revolutions
 

The insightful work Weibo Feminism: Expression, Activism and Social Media in China (2022) by Xue and Rose explores how Weibo serves as a platform for diverse feminist discourses. These include questioning traditional values like Confucian filial piety, examining the one-child policy, and engaging in broader discussions on reproductive autonomy among feminists from different social, ethnic, and professional backgrounds.

Weibo Feminism by Xue and Rose.

Despite tensions between Western-influenced feminists and those more aligned with communist ideals, Weibo has also allowed for more independent feminist voices to emerge. These voices focus on systemic change and collective solidarity, reinterpreting global feminist ideas to fit China’s unique socio-cultural context.

Facing censorship and pressure, Weibo feminists have adopted decentralized strategies—what Xue and Rose call “scattered revolutions.” Instead of building massive accounts, they create smaller, distributed communities to impact larger debates: “You forbid us to gather anywhere, so we will be everywhere.”

Every now and then, these voices can be heard all over Weibo. Recently, these voices surfaced in online conversations about misleading sanitary pad advertisements, which expanded into broader discussions about women’s health, safety, and rights.

Ruixin Zhang wrote about grassroots efforts to combat menstrual stigma and hold Chinese companies accountable here. Wendy Huang covered the discussions surrounding Her Story here.

There is much more to say about China’s online feminism, a topic that will undoubtedly come up more often in the time to come.

 
Looking Ahead
 

For those I didn’t meet but who are interested in the topic of my Cleveringa speech, I’ll dive deeper into Weibo’s 15-year anniversary on What’s on Weibo early 2025. There are also exciting changes coming to the site, allowing for deeper insights into special topics—more on that soon!

If you appreciate What’s on Weibo and want to stay up to date, please continue as a premium member, tell colleagues and friends to subscribe, or explore group accounts for your office (email me for group discounts). To maintain independence, I still don’t do advertisements or sponsorship deals, so your support is what keeps everything going.

Meanwhile, if you’d like to connect on social media for more frequent updates, follow Whatsonweibo on Instagram here or follow my personal account on X. I’ve also recently joined Bluesky, please find me here.

Warm regards,

Manya Koetse

¹ FYI: The term ‘feminism’ in itself is a Western term, which is translated in Chinese as 女权主义 (nǚquán zhǔyì), meaning “women’s rights ideology” as the term 女权 (nǚquán) combines 女 (nǚ), meaning “woman,” with 权 (quán), meaning “rights” or “power.” 主义 (zhǔyì) translates to “ideology” or simply “-ism.”

² More on this: Zhou Huashan (周华山). 2000. Xingbie yuejie zai Zhongguo (性别越界在中国) [Crossing the Borders of Gender in China]. Hong Kong: Xianggang Tongshi Yanjiushi (香港通识研究室), 16–18.

What’s New

Shortcomings in Menstrual Pads | Sanitary pads have never been a bigger topic of debate on Chinese social media as it’s been over the past few weeks. What began with one blogger’s discovery of menstrual pads falling short of their advertised size has grown into a broader movement, demanding better-quality products and greater awareness of menstrual health. Insightful article by Ruixin Zhang 👇

Good Stuff | The Chinese comedy-drama Her Story (好东西, literally “Good Stuff”), directed by Shao Yihui (邵艺辉), has been gaining attention and sparking discussions on Weibo since its late November release in mainland China. Beyond the discussions of plot and central themes, Her Story reflects the increasing success and influence of women filmmakers in the Chinese film industry.

A Caravan of Cyclistst | From city marketing to the spirit of China’s new generation, there are many themes behind the recent Zhengzhou trend of thousands of students cycling to Kaifeng overnight.

PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #39

This week’s newsletter:

◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – “Comrade Trump Returns to the Palace”
◼︎ 2. What’s New – A closer look at featured stories
◼︎ 3. WeiboWatch List – Online discussions to watch
◼︎ 4. What’s Noteworthy – Hu Xijin is back
◼︎ 6. What’s Popular – New series features story of Xi’s father
◼︎ 7. What’s Memorable – Trump’s 2016 win
◼︎ 8. Weibo Word of the Week – Digital Ibuprofen

Dear Reader,

“Good morning, everyone. A new day with global impact has begun,” Weibo blogger “MLRS270” wrote early Wednesday morning, China time. Weibo, like the rest of the world, has been closely watching how American voters would shape the outcome of the 2024 US presidential election. With half a million followers, MLRS270 claimed that Harris’s victory was already “set in stone.”

Twelve hours later, however, the online discussions looked very different. Trump’s win dominated Weibo trending topics and the hashtag “Trump Officially Declares Victory” (#特朗普正式宣布获胜#) received over 870 million views.

“The upcoming four years are going to be entertaining,” a popular comment said. Posts, videos, and memes on Trump’s win immediately began to surface, not just on Weibo but also on other Chinese social media platforms like WeChat and Xiaohongshu.

The ‘entertainment’ surrounding the American elections had already started earlier. Most noteworthy was the sudden surge in stock value for a Chinese company called Sichuan Wisdom Co. Ltd. (川大智胜). This spike occurred simply because the company’s name sounds like “Trump winning.”

The Chinese name, Chuān Dà Zhì Shèng (川大智胜), belongs to a software company unrelated to Trump. But its name’s first character, Chuān—which in this context refers to Sichuan—is also used in the Chinese transliteration of Trump’s name, leading some to interpret it as “Trump Grand Wisdom Victory.”

For fun, Chinese investors began buying shares. “To support you, I’ve bought some stocks,” one Weibo user from Sichuan wrote, posting an orange heart emoji. The stocks continued to rise when Trump’s actual win became known (#川大智胜午后涨停#).

Chuān Dà Zhì Shèng (川大智胜) stocks going up.

Meanwhile, another company named Haers (哈尔斯 Hāěrsī), which sounds like Harris in Chinese, saw a sudden drop in its stock. That Zhejiang company, which produces vacuum-insulated containers, also got caught up in the elections (#哈尔斯股价大跌#).

Some Chinese economic news channels noted that “external developments” were clearly playing a role in these market fluctuations, and warned people that this kind of short-term, non-logical speculative trading was not recommended. They suggested it would be better to “enjoy the show from the sidelines” (“看个热闹”).

Nevertheless, the momentary fluctuation in ‘Trump’ versus ‘Harris’ stocks did show a general preference for Trump among the Chinese online public.

While the idea of Trump being a more ‘entertaining’ American president than Harris often comes up in Chinese online discussions on the election outcome, there are also more serious discussions about whether Trump’s presidency would be good or bad for China.

Despite what happened in the past, many netizens suggest that Trump, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, will be “more favorable” for China and “better for global stability.” Despite the downsides of protectionist trade policies and high tariffs on China, it is believed that the potential benefits would outweigh them through, for example, improved diplomatic relations and cooperation in tech. Trump’s view of China as an open economic competitor would allow China to respond directly and strategically.

Harris, on the other hand, is viewed less favorably by Chinese social media commenters who believe that China would be seen as a political adversary under her presidency, employing underhanded tactics to contain and undermine China. In their view, she represents the American political elite, which they perceive as engaging in covert power plays worldwide for political gain. Trump’s explicit focus on economic competition is something many find more relatable.

Her perceived “elitism” is also linked to her calls for the need to “stay woke,” a message that hasn’t resonated with many Chinese netizens, who often associate “wokism” with political elites and Western hypocrisy. In contrast, many prefer to support the more practical and relatable “grassroots.”

However, many also believe that for China, it does not matter who won in the end. “In reality, whoever takes office brings new challenges,” a well-known military and current affairs blogger (@后沙月光本尊) wrote. This sentiment was echoed by many others. When Iraqi Weibo blogger Omar (@欧玛omar) suggested that Trump’s return to power would be unfavorable for China due to his “wild schemes against China” and his “crude remarks,” dozens of commenters replied: “It would’ve been the same either way.” “The Democrats are no different.” “China is not afraid.”

A general consensus seems to be that, if it makes no difference to them who’s in the White House, it might as well be someone they find amusing and interesting. In this regard, Trump is the preferred winner for many netizens, who congratulate “the King of Understanding” for his “reemployment.”

Chinese meme: “Trump returns to the palace.”

Trump earned the title “King of Understanding” (dǒngwáng 懂王, also ‘King of Knowing’) on Chinese social media for his often-quoted claims of understanding complex issues better than anyone else (“people are really surprised I understand this stuff”). (Harris, by the way, was nicknamed ‘Sister Haha’ (哈哈姐) or the “King of Laughter” (笑王) for her frequent, distinctive laughter during public appearances.)

Another famous nickname for Trump is “Comrade Jianguo” (建国同志), meaning “Comrade Build-the-Country.” This nickname humorously suggests that Trump’s leadership, which is meant to “make America great again,” inadvertently accelerates China’s rise. Over the years, these playful nicknames have blended mockery with affection, reflecting the humorous perspective many Chinese social media users have toward Trump’s antics.

While Western platforms like Reddit are filled with shock and dread today, Weibo is mostly buzzing with lighthearted banter and optimism. “Looking ahead, keep an eye on sectors like artificial intelligence, autonomous driving, fintech, and Musk-related stocks,” one commenter wrote. “Trump loves Elon. We might even see peace between Russia and Ukraine, or Kim Jong-un watching an NBA game with Trump. And of course, we’d welcome Comrade Jianguo to visit Hainan for some tourism—after all, he loves doing business, and we have free trade.”

When blogger Wu Pei (@吴佩) asked netizens what Trump’s win would realistically mean for them, responses ranged from “crashing stock markets” and “setbacks for EV companies” to “heightened trade frictions.” The only thing people seem to agree on is that it would be best to sit back and watch the spectacle as “Comrade Trump returns to the palace.”

This edition of Weibo Watch was co-curated by Miranda Barnes. Wendy Huang contributed an insightful article on the recent controversies surrounding Chinese livestream stars, and Ruixin Zhang provides a must-read piece on the ongoing crackdown on online smut.

Best,
Manya Koetse
(@manyapan)

What’s New

Forbidden Stories | A recent crackdown on Chinese authors writing erotic webnovels has sparked increased online conversations about the Haitang Literature ‘Flower Market’ subculture, the challenges faced by prominent online smut writers, and the evolving regulations surrounding digital erotica in China. But how serious is the ‘crime’ of writing explicit fiction China today?

Viral Bao’an | This is the video that made a Xiaoxitian (Shanxi) security guard go viral in China. In the popular video, he tells a Douyin vlogger about his raise from 1,700 yuan/month (US$240) to 2,200 yuan ($310), thanks to a tourism boom driven by the popular game Black Myth: Wukong. Shortly after gaining online fame, he shared in another video that he’d been dismissed, looking tired and saying, “They [the superiors] told me not to work anymore. I didn’t say anything wrong, but they don’t want me to continue.” This sparked a wave of outrage online. More about that here 👇.

Livestream Scandals | As livestreaming continues to gain popularity in China, so do the controversies surrounding the industry. Negative headlines involving high-profile livestreamers, as well as aspiring influencers hoping to make it big, frequently dominate Weibo’s trending topics. ‘Wanghong’ used to be a mark of online fame, but now, it’s increasingly tied to controversy and scandal. Read this deep dive ➡️

WeiboWatch List

 
🚫 Forbidden Fashion

A group of foreign fashion designers linked to the brand Fecal Matter were denied entry to Beijing’s Forbidden City on October 15. The group, consisting of American designer Rick Owens, his wife Michèle Lamy, and Fecal Matter members Hannah Rose Dalton and Steven Raj Bhaskaran, made headlines internationally after posting photos on social media of themselves posing outside the Forbidden City. According to their post, security had informed them that they could enter if they removed their makeup and changed into “normal” clothing, a request they declined. While the designers framed the incident as motivation to continue fighting for “greater acceptance and tolerance for difference around the world,” Chinese media and social media users viewed it as a sign of disrespect (#外国游客因着装问题被劝离故宫#).

The Forbidden City issued a statement on the 18th, clarifying that it has no specific dress code for visitors, “as long as it’s not too exaggerated.” A top comment on a Weibo thread about the incident, which received over 100,000 likes, read: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do (客随主便, kè suí zhǔ biàn). If you insist on your freedom to dress as you please, then don’t come to my house!”

 
👻 Halloween Crackdown

The Forbidden City incident wasn’t the only costume-related controversy in China this month. In Shanghai, local police patrolled popular areas to monitor Halloween celebrations. Although there was no nationwide or citywide ban, some videos showed costumed individuals being escorted away by police or forced to remove their outfits. There was a significant police presence on Julu Road and in Zhongshan Park, with the latter even temporarily closed to prevent large gatherings.

Last year, Halloween celebrations in Shanghai caused a frenzy on the Internet. Instead of traditional Halloween themes, young people on Julu Road and beyond brought pop culture memes and social commentary to life through creative costumes. Many outfits were playful, some queer, and others served as social critiques, with costumes depicting surveillance cameras and COVID-19 medical workers. Some even described the event as “China’s very own pride walk.” However, it’s now clear that local authorities are keen to prevent Shanghai’s Halloween festivities from evolving into a larger cultural celebration or protest.

 
📉 Math Competition Outcome

You might remember the story that went viral earlier this year about Jiang Ping (姜萍), the seventeen-year-old vocational school student who reached the top 12 on the finalist list of the Alibaba Global Mathematics Competition, competing against students from elite universities worldwide. Her success story—coming from a humble rural family and excelling in math as a fashion student under the guidance of her teacher Wang Runqiu (王润秋)—initially resonated but was soon questioned. Critics doubted the authenticity of Jiang Ping’s initial score, not only because she wasn’t a math major but also because her score allegedly surpassed her own teacher’s.

Now, the results of the 2024 Alibaba Mathematics Competition, originally set for August, are finally out. Neither Jiang Ping nor her teacher appears on the list. The competition committee released a statement confirming that Wang Runqiu had assisted Jiang Ping in the preliminaries, violating the “no collaboration with others” rule. It’s a disappointing outcome—not only because the competition allowed room for cheating, which Wang and Jiang exploited, but also because Jiang had become an inspirational role model for many math-loving girls from non-elite backgrounds. Now, she has fallen from that pedestal.

 
🔪 Xiaomi SU7 Stabbing Incident

A 23-year-old man from Nantong named Kang, who had just purchased the Tesla competitor Xiaomi SU7, recently became a trending topic on Chinese social media after fatally stabbing a biker enthusiast. Kang, who was part of a motorcycling chat group, shared his new 300,000-yuan ($42,200) Xiaomi SU7 EV in the group, only to be mocked by some members. When the Xiaomi EV owner and bikers later met in person outside a coffee shop popular with bikers, the encounter escalated. Kang pulled out a knife, fatally stabbing one of the group members, then fled in his brand-new car, crashing through a storefront and ramming into motorcycles. A video of the incident went viral online. Kang was arrested shortly afterward.

The incident sparked conversations about how the 23-year-old, a recent university graduate, reached this breaking point. A popular blogger, @黑哥爆料, suggested that Kang’s parents had supported him in buying the costly car, hoping he would work hard and settle down. Lacking the social recognition he had hoped for, the situation with the bikers pushed him to his limits. While Kang bears responsibility for his actions, the blogger suggests that the group could have de-escalated the tension by acknowledging him instead of bullying him. In the end, this incident has devastated multiple lives, including the victim’s, Kang’s, and also Kang’s parents, who now bear the financial and emotional toll of their son’s actions.

 
🍰 Swiss Roll Conversations

“How to divide 8 Swiss rolls?” (8个瑞士卷怎么分?) This question recently became a trending topic on Weibo after a stay-at-home mom shared a video about her experience buying a box of Swiss rolls with eight pieces. Her daughter ate two, her son ate two, and her husband ate two. She assumed the last two pieces were hers, but her husband scolded her, saying she should set a good example by not snacking, and that it was selfish not to save the last pieces for the kids.

The video sparked widespread debate, quickly becoming a symbol for broader issues like gender relations, the division of household labor, and the role of stay-at-home moms. Some feminists expressed outrage over the incident, while others suspected the video was staged to create controversy and attract views. The incident has now drawn so much attention that cyberspace authorities have intervened to investigate whether the Swiss Roll story is genuine. Bon appétit? Let’s see how this unfolds.

What’s Noteworthy

Small news with big impact

For nearly 100 days, since July 27, the well-known social and political commentator Hu Xijin (胡锡进) remained silent on Chinese social media. This was highly unusual for the columnist and former Global Times editor, who typically posts multiple Weibo updates daily, along with regular updates on his X account and video commentaries.

Various foreign media outlets speculated that his silence might be related to his comments about the Third Plenum and Chinese economics, especially regarding China’s shift to treating public and private enterprises equally. Without any official statement, Chinese netizens were left guessing about his whereabouts. Most assumed he had, in some way, taken a ‘wrong’ stance in his commentary on the economy and stock market, or perhaps on politically sensitive topics like the Suzhou stabbing of a Japanese student, which led to his being sidelined for a while.

On October 31, Hu suddenly reappeared on Weibo with a post praising the newly opened Chaobai River Bridge, which connects Beijing to Dachang in Hebei—where Hu owns a home—significantly reducing travel time and making the more affordable Dachang area attractive to people from Beijing. The post received over 9,000 comments and 25,000 likes, with many welcoming back the old journalist. “You’re back!” and “Old Hu, I didn’t see you on Weibo for so long. Although I regularly curse your posts, I missed you,” were among the replies.

Not everyone, however, is thrilled to see his return. Blogger Bad Potato (@一个坏土豆) criticized Hu, claiming that with his frequent posts and shifting views, he likes to jump on trends and gauge public opinion—but is actually not very skilled at it, which allegedly contributes to a toxic online environment. Other bloggers also take issue with Hu’s tendency to contrast himself, or disagree with the stances he makes in new posts.

When Hu wrote about Trump’s win, the top comment read: “Old Trump is back, just like you!”

Hu seems delighted to be back. He hasn’t mentioned his absence but shared a photo from 1978, when he joined the military, reflecting on his journey of growth, learning, and commitment to the country. He has a way of admiring himself—and, occasionally, we don’t mind admiring him too. Welcome back, Hu.

 

What’s Popular

The latest buzz in arts, marketing & pop culture

The TV series Years in the Northwest (西北岁月), premiering on CCTV 1 this week, tells the story of Xi Jinping’s father, longtime PLA leader Xi Zhongxun (习仲勋, 1913-2002). This is the first historical drama to focus on Xi Zhongxun, highlighting his “extraordinary experiences and achievements” during the 25 years he spent in the Shaanxi-Gansu border region from 1927 to 1952.

Xi Zhongxun joined the Communist Party in 1928 and went on to become a prominent revolutionary and political leader. In the northwest’s Shaanxi-Gansu border region, he played a critical role in establishing revolutionary bases. Working alongside notable figures like Peng Dehuai (彭德怀), his efforts were instrumental in consolidating Party influence in the region.

On social media, some viewers of the first episode have shared emotional responses, while others praise popular actor Wu Lei (吴磊, 1999) for his portrayal of the young Xi Zhongxun.

One interesting aspect of the series’ announcement on Weibo is the unusually high number of shares—over 620,500—compared to the relatively low number of comments, suggesting that online discussions surrounding the series are controlled and contained.

 

What’s Memorable

Best reads from the archive

On the morning of November 9, 2016 (Beijing time), the world received news of Donald Trump’s victory in the U.S. presidential election. In our coverage of Trump’s win at the time, we provided insight into Chinese reactions to America’s unconventional new president. From official Chinese media to Weibo netizens, responses to Trump’s triumph were favorable, critical, humorous, but above all, mixed.

Read more
 

Weibo Word of the Week

The catchword to know

Digital Iboprofen | Our Weibo word of the week is 电子布洛芬 (diànzǐ bùluòfēn), which translates to “Digital Ibuprofen” or “Electronic Ibuprofen.”*

This week, the term came up when fans told Chinese actor and singer Tan Jianci (檀健次) that he is their “digital ibuprofen.” Tan, with a puzzled look, asked what that meant. A fan explained, “It means we feel better when we see you” (or, essentially, “our bodies feel no pain”). Since then, Tan Jianci has become associated with the term “digital ibuprofen.”

Although the phrase resurfaced this week, it has been around for some time, gaining popularity in 2022-2023 among fans of entertainment shows. It refers to content that provides relief from stress or discomfort, much like how ibuprofen alleviates physical pain. For instance, the Hunan TV show Go for Happiness (快乐再出发) is often called “digital ibuprofen.”

Chiikawa is the original ‘digital ibuprofen’. Image via @南岛客厅.

The term saw a surge in popularity alongside the Japanese animated series Chiikawa, which became a viral hit among young people. The anime’s portrayal of its cute character staying optimistic despite life’s stresses earned Chiikawa the nickname “digital ibuprofen,” as fans found comfort in its stories (read more in this story by Sixth Tone).

“Digital ibuprofen” applies to more than just shows—it can be any content, such as videos, memes, or idols, that provides comfort, distraction, and relief to fans.

In the same category, there’s also “digital pickled mustard” or “electronic pickled mustard” (电子榨菜, diànzǐ zhàcài), which refers to a binge-worthy or comforting show.

*The term 电子 (diànzǐ) means “electronic” and is commonly used in modern Chinese terms, much like the English “e-” prefix in ebook (电子书) or email (电子邮件). It’s also used for digital transactions, like digital payments (电子支付) or digital wallets (电子钱包).

Featured image of Tan Jianci’s head inside an ibuprofen pill, on Xiaohongshu via 燋糖栗子.

This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed last week’s newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know.